


(I'll Still Adore You) With Your Hands Around my Neck

by sequence_fairy



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, Choking, F/M, Pegging, getting together all the way through to very established relationship, these are some of my favourite things, this fic was not intended to be this long but sometimes you need a detour into an extra kink for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23046589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: “I’ve got a request,” Sara says, while they’re walking into Whole Foods to buy something Shane needs to make dinner for the upcoming weekend.Shane looks down at her. “Is this the kind of request you can make in the produce section of this grocery storecumcapitalist nightmare?”“Mmm,” Sara says, non-committal. She lets go of Shane’s hand and heads for the cheerfully yellow bananas. Shane follows her, stopping to be briefly distracted by some very lovely strawberries.“Well?” Shane asks, taking the bunch of bananas Sara offers him.Sara wants to be choked. It's something she's wanted for a while. Shane has the hands that might just be able to do it.
Relationships: Shane Madej/Sara Rubin
Comments: 28
Kudos: 53





	(I'll Still Adore You) With Your Hands Around my Neck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarcasticfishes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfishes/gifts).



> I tried very hard not to title this with lyrics from 505, but this is just who I am as a person. This fic was not meant to be this long, but then Shane wanted to be pegged and who was I to stand in his way?
> 
> Thanks go to Fie for requesting this, and to everyone on the book club and rareships servers for enabling me. Additional thanks, as always, to [Ember](http://emberglows.tumblr.com) for the ever-insightful beta.

The first time Sara thinks about it, it’s before she’s even acknowledged to herself that she’s nurturing more than a passing interest in him. It’s just that, well, Shane’s hands. They’re really rather ridiculous. Proportionate to the rest of him, sure, but wow. You’d have to be blind not to notice them. He dwarfs mugs and computer keyboards and every single pen he picks up.

They sit beside each other at lunch one day and on a whim, she flattens her hand down on the table beside his. Shane looks over at her and grins, lifting his hand up. His smile is so unencumbered, it makes something in Sara’s stomach flip over. She lifts her own hand and presses it against his. Shane curls his fingers down over hers, his hand comically bigger than hers. They lock eyes, look away, and then let their hands fall back to their respective laps. 

Sara finishes her lunch and leaves before Shane, heading back to her desk without another thought about how big his hands were in comparison to hers. How big his _everything_ might be. How tall he is. How his smile changes his whole face. How he looked, squinting in the bright sunlight of the courtyard, hair mussed because he and Ryan have been working on something and it’s making them both look like they’re pulling all-nighters. Maybe it’s more than a passing interest.

Later, when she’s gone home to her place and settled in for the night, the comparison between their hands comes back to her. She goes all over hot and bothered at the thought of Shane’s hands next to hers. The thought of them on her, of how much of her they’d cover. She shivers under the covers and one hand comes up to her breast, rubbing the pad of one finger over her nipple, feeling the slow rising tide of desire in her blood. He’s big all over, she thinks, but he’d be sweet with it, she knows. 

Sara probably shouldn’t lie here in her own bed and think about her coworker while she strokes herself, fingers sliding slippery through her cunt, but she is. Her breath comes in shivering pants, as she thinks about Shane’s hands, about Shane’s broad shoulders between her thighs, about his dark eyes looking up at her, about the spread of his fingers across her stomach. He’d hold her still while he licks her out until she whines, strung out and over-stimulated. Sara bites her lip to stifle a moan.

Shane’s hands are soft, she knows, because she got her own hands all over them today. She knows he’s careful with himself, because he’s tall and broad and all elbows and knees and very conscious of where he puts them. She knows, instinctively, that he’d take care of her, that he’d look down at her while he was fucking her, eyes soft and hazy, and Sara would have to ask. She does it herself now, brings her free hand up and settles it around her own throat, squeezing just gently enough for the pressure to be intentional. 

She shakes through her orgasm, toes flexing. 

The next morning, she runs into Shane in the canteen at work. He hands her a mug. His hands dwarf the cup and Sara feels her insides go a little molten at the sight. She looks up, way up, at him and gives him a bright smile of thanks. Shane smiles back down at her. 

Sara goes all over butterflies. 

===

The first time they go to bed together is both earth-shattering and mundane. 

Shane does fit remarkably well in the cradle of Sara’s hips and his hands on her skin are marvelous. Sara knows she’ll think about the spread of his palm across her entire thigh, later, when she’s alone. She’ll also think about the way he’d ducked his head, tips of his ears flushing bright, when she’d pulled off her shirt. 

He’d looked up after a moment, eyes wide behind his glasses. Sara hadn’t pegged him for being shy, but perhaps shamelessness elsewhere breeds this soft hesitancy in moments of real intimacy. He’s gentle, and Sara melts under his touch. She sinks into his bed, lets her head drop back, and comes apart on his hand, with Shane watching her like she’s a falling star over his head and he might only get this one chance to have his wish. 

It’s easy to roll him over after, straddle his hips, and wrap both her hands around his dick, because she’d been right about that, too. He’s proportional, all over. Sara loves it. She’s immediately desperate to get him inside her, to split herself open on him, to sink down in a rush, to feel the strain of it in her hips and the burn of it in her thighs. 

Sara leans over to scramble for the condom she’d tossed at him earlier when he’d backed her into his bedroom. Shane watches her, sharp-eyed, as she opens the package and rolls it onto him, slicking her hand up and down. Shane’s hands come to rest on her hips, and he looks up at her, flush spilling down his chest. She can feel the tension in him, but he’s waiting for her, letting her decide. Sara maybe loves him for it.

She probably loves him for other reasons, too, but for now, as she leans up on her knees to shuffle forward enough to sink down over him, she loves him most for the way his eyes close as she takes him in. She does it slow, wanting to feel him the whole way, wanting to memorize the sensation, wanting to lock this first time in her mind. Shane holds himself still, nearly vibrating under her while Sara adjusts. It’s a lot, but she knew that.

Shane’s eyes open a sliver. Sara breathes out, sinks a little further down. 

He could fuck her into next week, and she’d probably be feeling it for days. 

She wants him to. 

“You good?” Shane asks, voice strained, but quiet. He still hasn’t moved. Sara rises up a touch, just to feel the slide of him inside her. Shane hisses out a breath between his teeth as Sara lets her hips roll forward. 

“Yeah,” Sara answers, and rolls her hips again. One of Shane’s hands tightens on her hip. His other hand clenches in the sheets beside him. 

Sara rides him, slow and steady, until Shane is grunting every time she bottoms out. He lets her set the pace, even though she can feel how much he wants her to go faster. Sara wants to savour this. She loves the way he looks beneath her, spread out on his bed, all his gangly limbs focused on holding himself back, tension thrumming through him. 

Sara shifts back, lifts her hands from where they’ve been planted on his chest and sticks them into her own hair. She tugs, arching her spine, and keeps rolling her hips. Shane’s mouth drops open. The hand on her hip slides up, reaching for first one breast, then the other. Sara shudders as Shane teases her nipples into hardness. Each touch sends a zing of heat down into her core.

She’s so wet now, she can feel it every time she moves. 

“You’re so wet,” Shane groans. His hand slips back down to hold her hip, flexing against her, like he wants to grab her harder. Sara kind of wishes he would. “God.” 

“You feel so good,” Sara answers, speeding up the roll of her hips. 

Shane fucks up into her in response, and Sara throws back her head. She moans. Shane grunts under her. 

“Fuck,” he says, through his teeth. “Fuck. I’m gonna– _Sara_.” 

“Yeah, baby, c’mon,” Sara says, encouraging. She looks down at him, and watches as he comes. She watches as his body tightens, as his eyes close, as he huffs a breath. His face screws together, mouth twisted into something nearly ugly, but Sara thinks he’s beautiful, coming undone like this. His hips buck, and then both of his hands are on her, holding her to him, like he wants, somehow, to get closer than they already are. 

Sara decides she would let him climb inside, that maybe he has already made a home for himself in the soft spot under her ribs, in the place that gets warm when he smiles at her, when he shifts his hands through her hair, when he brings her a coffee on a day she looks achingly tired.

Once he’s through it, he stills, opens one eye and looks at her. “You didn’t–” he starts. 

Sara shrugs. “Sometimes that happens. And I already did, before, so, like, it’s fine.” 

Shane hums. Sara starts to slide off, but Shane’s hand catches around her wrist before she can get too far. “Not today, it isn’t,” he says, eyes dark. He’s staring up at her, hunger in the curve of his mouth. 

“Oh no?” Sara asks. She knows her smile is just this side of a tease. 

“No.” 

Instead of letting her climb off, Shane pushes her over, using his greater weight and reach against her for the first time. A delicious thrill rides low in Sara’s belly at the way he casually manhandles her down onto the bed. Shane disposes of their condom and then rolls over above her, any of his earlier hesitance completely gone. He holds himself up with one hand pressed flat into the mattress next to her and trails the other hand down her body. Sara arches into the touch. 

“It won’t take much,” she says, and Shane grins at her. 

“Shame,” Shane says, and shimmies down her body. 

“Oh,” Sara says, moving to forestall him. “You don’t have to–” She cuts herself off with a moan as Shane dives in. 

Sara’s toes curl and she shoves a hand into her own hair to keep herself from grabbing his head and shoving his face further into her pussy. He’s good at this. She figured he would be. He’s definitely not just licking the alphabet down there. Sara moans, and sends up a prayer of thanks to whatever woman came before her and showed Shane how to do this so well, because God-fucking-bless. 

“Shane,” Sara says, breathless. He flicks his eyes up, keeping his mouth right where she wants it. It’s the look in his eyes that does it, Sara decides, the way he looks like he could stay there all day, the way he looks like he would happily drown there between her thighs. Shane crooks his fingers inside her, and Sara comes with a sharp cry. 

The world goes fuzzy around the edges for a while. Shane keeps licking at her until she finally remembers how her arms work and reaches down to shove at his shoulder. Shane takes his time pulling away. Sara whines when he finally does lift his head, like she doesn’t want him to go, but she’s gone tingly all over and when he presses the pad of one finger to her clit, as a parting shot, Sara can’t help the way she convulses around the pressure point. 

Shane’s eyes widen, delighted. Sara shivers under his gaze.

“C’mere,” Sara says, letting one arm flop out in his direction.

“Gimme a sec,” Shane says, and pushes himself up off the bed, before bending over to retrieve a pair of pajama pants from the floor. He pulls them on and snaps the elastic at his hips before turning back to her. He brings his hands to his face and mimes framing a photo. 

Laughter bubbles up out of Sara, and she kicks out one leg at him, before rolling over and then looking back at him with her tongue stuck out. 

“That’s a look.” 

“You better believe it,” Sara says, as she pushes herself up to reach for him.

===

The day they move in together, Shane barely waits for the door to shut behind the last of their friends who came to help shift boxes before he’s backing her into the wall. Sara looks up at him. He’s shadowed in the half-dark of their new flat, eyes dark and wanting. Sara pushes up onto tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Ours,” he says against her lips, getting his hands around her waist and bunching up the long tank top she’s wearing so he can tug at the button of her tiny jean shorts. He doesn’t stop kissing her while he shoves them down her legs. They get stuck at her knees, but Sara shimmies ‘til they drop to the floor, so she can kick them off. 

Shane lifts her, one hand under the back of each thigh, and then pins her to the wall with his hips. Sara wraps her legs around his waist, as Shane slides his hands up under her shirt, pushing her bra up and over her tits so he can fondle her while he leans down to suck a mark into the soft skin at the base of her jaw. Sara tips her head back to give him room and holds on to his shoulders. 

“Take me to bed,” she says, when Shane’s hips roll into hers and she can feel the whole hard length of him against her. 

“Have to put it together first,” he says, into her skin. 

“Oh, fuck that then,” Sara answers. She worms a hand between them and gets his pants undone and Shane helps her get them down over his hips. “Want you,” she husks. 

Shane groans, and drops his head to rest against her shoulder. Sara’s hand comes up to cradle the back of his skull, fingers speared through his hair. Shane reaches between them and pushes her panties to the side, sliding his fingers through her folds just to make her shiver. 

“Shane,” Sara says, not trying to hurry him along but also trying to hurry him along. 

“I’ve got you,” he says, and slides home in a single movement that makes them both shudder. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Sara breathes, tipping her head back again. Shane fucks her against the wall, and it’s quick and filthy and they both smell like the moving blankets they folded around her dresser earlier that morning. 

“Look at me,” Shane says, and Sara does. His eyes are blown, pupils dark. “I love you,” he says, and then his eyes screw shut and his hips jump forward while his hands tighten around Sara’s thighs. He sucks in a breath, and then he’s coming, with a full body shiver. He sags against her when he’s done, holding her up still mostly because he’s back to pinning her to the wall. 

After a minute, he lets her down, slipping out of her. He runs his fingers through her hair, tilting her chin up so he can kiss her, soundly. Sara grins into the kiss. 

When Shane pulls away, Sara lets her hand linger on his face. “Ours,” she says, then, “I love you.” 

Later, after they put the bed together, and after they’ve each stood under the shower for long enough that the water runs cold and their blood gets hot, Shane spreads Sara out on her stomach on their bed, in their bedroom, and pins her hands over her head. He fucks her with long, meaningful strokes, making her gasp and hum and flex against the restraint of one of his hands around both of her wrists. 

Sara comes on a sigh. 

  
  


===

  
  


Anniversaries are arbitrary. 

They agree early on that theirs is not an especially special day and decide that they’ll celebrate other milestones instead. They celebrate the holidays and the day Sara sold her first piece of art, and the day Shane remembered to buy all the things on the list at the grocery store and the day neither of them hit a red light on the whole drive home from work. 

They also decide to celebrate the day Shane shyly asked Sara if maybe she would want to be into, like, you know, _butt stuff_ , and Sara had gleefully jumped into his lap. They don’t pick the day they finally, actually, did the deed, as it were, because neither of them remembers exactly when it was. Maybe a week later? Sara’s memory is hazy. They’d had so much sex that week, like they were rabbits prepping for the end times. 

When Shane had finally gotten her on her back and pushed his fingers inside her, Sara remembers feeling like she was coming apart at the seams. Shane looked like he was having a religious experience, and there weren’t even any dicks involved yet. That had happened some days later, and Sara still dusts off the memory when Shane’s away on a filming trip and she needs something to get her blood warm. 

It’s now coming up on the anniversary of this momentous occasion and Sara’s been thinking deeply about how to properly mark the day. She considers and discards ideas all week. 

She asks Shane, while he’s shoveling rice and beans into his mouth like a particularly hungry steam shovel, whether he has any suggestions to add to her list. He stops shovelling, and looks at her. Sara pushes her phone across the table, opened to her memos app. Shane looks down. Sara watches his eyes widen as he skims her list. 

“Sar,” he says, faint. He picks up his glass of water and drains it. Sara knows how he feels. She’s suddenly extremely thirsty. A flush appears across Shane’s cheeks, and he ducks his face, not meeting her eyes. 

“Shane?” 

Shane clears his throat. He drums his fingers on the table, and he still won’t meet her eyes. He swallows, takes a deep breath and then seems to come to a place of serenity. “What if …“ he trails off, and looks up at her. “What if it was me?” 

Sara’s brain goes offline for what she is sure is longer than is healthy. When she blinks back to herself, Shane’s waiting for her. 

“Uh,” Sara says. She reaches across the table for his hand. “Yes. Yes, okay, yes.” 

Shane’s grin steals slyly across his face. “Yeah?” 

“Oh boy,” Sara says, squeezing her thighs together under the table. Liquid heat zips up her spine. “I know what we need.” 

A few nights later, Sara rolls into Shane just before he reaches up to turn out the light. “How about we start tomorrow?” 

Shane’s mouth goes slack for a moment, then he nods. The tightness of nerves lives in the brief clench of his jaw, but Sara reaches a hand up to smooth it through his hair, and down the side of his face. 

“I’ll take good care of you,” she says, and leans up to kiss him. Shane shivers against her, leaning into the kiss. 

Later that week, Sara comes home from a trip out to the store and drops a bag of supplies onto the coffee table in front of where Shane is reading something on his laptop. He looks up from his screen and uses two fingers to push his glasses up his nose. The bag is the purposeful kind of nondescript and Shane raises both eyebrows as he looks at it. Sara grins. 

“What’s that?” he asks, and Sara shrugs. 

“Went shopping,” she says, and then wanders away into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. She comes back into the living room at the same moment that Shane’s curious nature gets the better of him and he reaches for the bag. Sara watches his face while he goes through the items, and catches his eye when he looks up. 

“We’ll start slow,” she says, “fingers first.” 

Shane nods. “Now?” 

“If you like,” Sara says. Shane sets his laptop down on the coffee table. Sara takes that as an answer. “Go shower,” she says.

As Shane brushes past her on his way out of the room, she swats him in the backside, just to make him jump. It works. Sara giggles when Shane looks back at her. “Go,” she says, shooing him off. Shane rolls his eyes good-naturedly but he goes. 

He meets Sara in the bedroom when he’s done his shower, hair still damp and curling at the back of his neck. His towel is wrapped low around his hips, and Sara kneels up on the bed and reaches for it. She’s stripped down to her panties. Shane’s hands come up along her sides and then he’s hefting the small weight of her breasts in his palms and Sara tips her face up for a kiss. 

Shane lets himself be pulled down onto the bed and then spread out on their sheets, Sara kneeling between his thighs. He looks down the length of his body at her, at where Sara’s hand is around him, and Sara follows his gaze. With her other hand, Sara reaches for the bottle of lube she’d dropped onto the bed before Shane had gotten out of the shower. His skin is still slightly dewy when she leans down to kiss him on the stomach, just above where the tip of his dick rests, flushed and hard.

“Okay?” she asks, uncapping the lube and slicking up her fingers. Shane nods and Sara takes him in hand again, jacks him once, twice, three times, and then slides her wet fingers down and down and down. Shane’s whole body jerks when she presses the pad of one finger against him. She circles her fingers meaningfully, all slick and soft, and watches the way Shane’s face goes slack, and the way he flushes, all the way down his chest. 

“Don’t tease,” Shane says, but he gasps when Sara presses one finger in, just to the first knuckle. 

“Good?” 

“Different,” Shane answers, voice strained. “Not bad, not good, just–different.” 

Sara hums. She squeezes more lube on her hand. Shane props himself up on his elbows so he can get a look at what she’s doing. Sara presses the first finger in a little further. Shane hisses in a breath. Sara reaches up for his cock, drawing the fingers of her other hand up and down the shaft in time with the push-pull of her finger inside him. Shane shivers. 

“That’s it,” Sara says, and slides a second finger in. 

Shane goes still for a long second before his hips rock up into Sara’s hand around his dick. She squeezes, and keeps up the steady rhythm, in and out, matching the pace with her hand on him. Shane breathes in harsh pants, hand clenching and unclenching in the sheets beside his hip. 

Sara works him easy, pulling soft groans out of him as she separates her fingers to start the stretch. She doesn’t give him a third finger until he starts to rock back against her hand, and then, when she does, she curls her fingers just the way she remembers is good, and Shane’s hips come up off the bed and he throws his head back. 

“Good?” Sara asks, even though she knows the answer. 

“Yeah,” Shane says, voice gone hoarse. His eyes are wild, looking at her like she holds the answer to the entirety of the universe in the palm of her hand. Maybe she does. Sara stretches her fingers apart, and shifts back, getting down onto her belly and then shuffling forward, so she can get her mouth on him. 

“Jesus,” Shane says. “Jesus _Christ_. Sara. What–”

Sara tries hard not to grin because she’s busy, but she curls her fingers inside him again and drags another moan out of him. He’s so hot, and soft and slick with lube and spit and Sara can’t wait to split him open on her strap. She wants to ruin him, ravish him, and then turn around and ask him to do the same to her. 

She tells him so, voice pitched low and dark, from where she’s resting her chin on the crease of his thigh, his hipbone close to her cheek. Shane screws his eyes shut like he can’t bear to look at her when she’s saying things like that, and Sara turns her head, to watch her own hand on Shane’s cock. 

She sits up a bit, the shift changing the angle enough that he clenches his jaw around what sound he might have made. It looks like the good kind of clench though, so Sara doesn’t stop, just keeps at him, and Shane looks so good, chest heaving and mouth parted as he sucks in air and tries not to moan too loud in deference to the thin walls of this apartment. He looks wrecked, and drunk on the feel of Sara’s hand inside him, around him, and Sara thinks she probably won’t need much once she’s got him through this, that maybe she’ll just get off watching him lose himself in this. 

Shane’s eyes widen and Sara realises she’s been talking. “Oh,” she says, cognizant now, and then, “you look so good like this, Shane.” She doesn’t miss the way the praise lands, the way Shane’s eyes widen and his hips roll back into her hand like he’s pushing for more. “Soon, baby,” Sara soothes, “gotta work up to it.” 

He comes, not long after, as Sara keeps up a steady stream of filthy patter, shaking through it and gasping like maybe he might be dying. He paints his stomach and his chest, come spilling hot over Sara’s fingers. She gentles him through it, pulling her hand out carefully and trying not to be too obviously smug about the noise of protest he makes when she does.

Shane lies there on their bed, body lax and loose. “Whew,” he says. 

“Alright there?” Sara asks, shifting back from the home she’d made between his thighs and then off the bed. 

Shane nods. “Yeah,” he says. “I wasn’t–” He cuts himself off with a choked noise and Sara turns from where she’d been wiping her hands, alarmed. Shane’s got the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sara says, sliding back into bed next to him, curling around him. 

“I’m fine,” Shane says, after a long moment of silence. 

“It’s okay if it was a lot,” Sara offers. “The first time for me was kind of a lot too.” 

“I’ve never–I didn’t–” Shane’s unable to form a complete sentence, so Sara just hums into his shoulder and snugs her arm around his chest, pressing herself up against the whole length of him. He’s still naked and come is drying, tacky, across his skin. Shane sniffs, swallows, and Sara waits for him to gather himself. He lets out a long, slow breath and then turns his head to press a kiss into her curls. 

“I love you,” Sara says, into his shoulder, and Shane hums in agreement.

“Gotta clean up,” he says, and Sara lets him get up out of bed. 

The next morning he goes to his knees for her in the shower and Sara’s sure the neighbours hear every sound that bounces off the tiled walls but she can’t bring herself to care.

===

Sara broaches the subject of the next step while she and Shane are pawing through records at one of Shane’s favourite musically inclined thrift stores. They’re alone amongst the vinyls, the shop quiet around them, and Shane’s humming along to the oldies being piped through what Sara imagines is a sound system that might older than both of them put together. 

She leans up a little, into Shane’s space, so she can keep her voice low. “Did you want to try with the strap-on this weekend?” 

Shane stiffens, and looks down at her with wide eyes behind his glasses. Sara likes the clear frames, she can see his whole face then. The darker frames hide the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he’s really smiling hard. “Sara,” he hisses, scandalised. 

“Oh, give me a break,” Sara scoffs, still keeping her voice low enough not to be overheard. “It’s not like there’s anyone around.” 

Shane looks around them, and Sara busies herself with the box of albums in front of her, fingers slipping over the glossy fronts and catching on the edge of an extremely well-loved copy of The Platters’ debut. 

They’ve tried with her fingers several times since that first time and it’s been extremely mutually satisfying. Sara loves how it makes Shane lose himself entirely. He’d had a hand around her thigh the last time, and he’d left five finger-shaped marks in her skin. Sara hadn’t been able to stop poking them until they went the sickly yellow-green of healing. 

Shane shuffles closer to her, knocking against her hand. “I can’t believe you’d ask me that here,” he says. 

“You haven’t said no,” Sara points out.

“I haven’t said yes either,” Shane argues. 

“Are you going to say no?” Sara asks, sliding in front of him. Shane makes room for her, one hand landing on her hip to steady her as she shifts past him to get at the box on his other side. 

They leave the shop empty-handed of new records, but Sara threads their fingers together as they step out the door. Shane looks down at where they’re joined and catches Sara’s eyes. “I’m not going to say no,” he says, and Sara’s insides go molten at the expectant heat in Shane’s gaze. 

===

Shane’s spread out beneath her, belly down, on their bed. Sara slips her hand into the cleft of his ass, sliding slick fingers up and down, while Shane shivers. She’s already wearing the harness, pink silicone dick hanging heavy between her thighs. 

“I’m gonna take such good care of you,” Sara purrs, leaning down to press a kiss to the midpoint of Shane’s spine. He shifts, restless, beneath her. “Lean up,” Sara says. 

Shane obeys, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. When he’s ready, Sara leans in close, breath ghosting over the spot where she’s already worked him open and left him wet and grasping at nothing. Shane let’s his head drop between his shoulders, shuddering out a breath as Sara darts forward to tongue around the rim of muscle, feeling the give and press of it, feeling the way Shane’s body thrums with tension awaiting release.

Sara reaches around, grasping his cock in her hand, and curling her fingers around it. Her hand is lube-slick and the slide is easy. Shane makes a sound like he’s been punched, and his shoulders shake. Sara lifts her head, looking up the long line of Shane’s spine. He’s trembling. He looks gorgeous like this, in the flickering light of the candles lining their dresser, skin shifted to gold in the muted light. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Sara says, and Shane groans. She’s been holding him on the edge for what he must think has been hours, careful to keep him hard but not to push him right over. “Ready?” Sara asks. 

“Sara,” Shane says, plaintive. Sara slides two fingers in, just to test, and Shane’s whole body rocks back onto her hand. 

“That’s it,” Sara says, and then she leans back, and settles herself behind him. “Okay,” she says, “bottoms up.” 

Shane snorts into his upper arm but Sara’s sliding the dildo into him in a short shallow stroke. The snort turns into a moan as Sara pulls back out and then slides back in, further this time. She gives him a moment to adjust to the feel of the unforgiving silicone before she’s pulling back and rocking back in again. 

It takes a careful period of time until Sara’s all the way in and Shane’s ass is pressed snug against the harness and Sara’s hips. “You did it,” Sara says, smoothing a hand down Shane’s side and reaching under him for his cock. It’s flagged a little, but nothing some attention can’t fix. “How’s it feel?” Sara asks, voice low. Shane shifts, adjusting. Sara wishes she could feel him inside while he’s moving. 

“It’s–” Shane sucks in a breath, lets it out on a little _‘hoo_ ’ sound, and continues, “it’s–wow. Can you, can you move? A little?” 

“Sure can,” Sara says, and eases back. She watches as the dildo slides out of Shane and then back in and listens to the way his breath goes out of him in a shattered sound.

“Jesus,” Shane says, “does it feel like this for you?” 

“Feels full,” Sara says, rocking her hips back and forward, letting Shane feel the sliding length inside him. “Feels like something a little dangerous, something you shouldn’t be allowed to do, but then it feels so good,” Sara continues. 

“Yeah,” Shane agrees. His shoulders twitch. The ripple of movement goes through his whole body. “Full. That’s– _hah_ –the word.”

Sara keeps the pace easy, slow and steady, until Shane’s pushing back against her with every thrust, until he’s dropped down onto his elbows and every heaving breath comes on a edge of a hitching noise that Sara’s never heard him make before. “You okay?” she asks, briefly concerned. 

“I’m good,” he says, “I promise.” 

Sara snaps her hips forward a little harder and Shane buries whatever noise he makes in the sheets, swearing. She hears the crunch of the vowels as he tries to stop them behind his teeth. She reaches around again, finds he’s still hard, and smooths his own wet down the length of his shaft and back up again. 

“Fuck. Sara, holy _shit_ ,” Shane says, voice muffled. Sara tilts her hips, trying to find the place she knows will make him turn to a live wire under her hands. It takes a couple of passes, back and forth, before she finds it, and Shane shouts, skidding forward on the bed. Sara follows him, not letting up one bit. She’s wet behind the harness, thinking about how good he looks spread out under her. 

“You’re doing so good,” Sara says, punctuating her thrusts. Her blood is buzzing, she’s warm all over, watching the creep of a flush settle across Shane’s shoulders. “You take it so well,” Sara praises, and Shane grunts, but he’s pushing back against her every time she rocks forward into him and his cock is dripping wet, enough that Sara’s hand slides easily across it. 

“You gonna come?” she asks, when Shane’s breath hitches, and she sees the way his legs tighten. 

“God,” he says, and it’s almost a sob. “Yeah. Yeah, Sara, I’m gonna–” 

Sara shoves in, maybe a little harder than she should, and Shane falls apart. It’s spectacular. Watching him shudder and listening to him moan and feeling the way his body grips and holds around the dildo while he keens, face buried in the edge of their comforter, Sara feels a little like she thinks Shane did, that first night, when he looked at her like she had the universe in her hand. 

Eventually, Shane stills, going boneless beneath her. Sara slips out as he does, and he whines at the loss. “You did so good,” Sara soothes, smoothing her hands along his sides and down over the backs of his thighs. “So good,” she repeats, leaning down to press a kiss to the dimple at the base of his spine. Shane sighs. 

===

They regroup in the kitchen, after. Shane leans against the counter and Sara sits in her chair at the table. 

“So?” she says, while Shane contemplates his glass of water. 

“I think,” Shane says, tracing one finger around the rim of his glass. “I think that was good, but maybe not an all the time thing?” 

“Fair,” Sara agrees. “Just like how anal isn’t an all the time thing for me, either.” 

“Oh no?” Shane asks, lofting one of his eyebrows. “I seem to recall on no fewer than three occasions this week, that you have expressly desired my fingers in your ass,” he says, teasing.

Sara flaps her hand at him. “Not the point. I’ve got ass on the brain this week, thinking about you.” There’s a laugh bubbling up in her chest, and Shane’s raised eyebrows make it spill out. “Shut up,” she says, pre-emptive, and then he’s laughing too.

They sober only after Shane repeats ‘ass on the brain’ in several different voices and makes Sara dissolve into breathless giggles until she has to put her hand up to make him stop. He pushes off the counter and comes to stand next to the chair she’s pretzled in, pushing his fingers into her curls. Sara leans her head against his hip.

“Was it good for you?” Shane asks, clearly curious. 

“It’s always good to make you feel good,” Sara answers. She’s honest. It is always good to make him feel good, and to know she had a hand in turning him into jelly in the best way is very satisfying, even if she’s feeling a little untouched at the current time. 

“I think we can do that again,” Shane says, and finishes his glass of water. “Right now though-” He covers a yawn with one hand. “I think it’s time for sleep.” 

Sara falls asleep that night thinking about his hands. 

===

“I’ve got a request,” Sara says, while they’re walking into Whole Foods to buy something Shane needs to make dinner for the upcoming weekend.

Shane looks down at her. “Is this the kind of request you can make in the produce section of this grocery store _cum_ capitalist nightmare?” 

“Mmm,” Sara says, non-committal. She lets go of Shane’s hand and heads for the cheerfully yellow bananas. Shane follows her, stopping to be briefly distracted by some very lovely strawberries. 

“Well?” Shane asks, taking the bunch of bananas Sara offers him. 

“Guess I can’t ask here,” Sara replies, trying her best to look glum. Shane doesn’t rise to the bait but strides off for the herbs, leaving Sara to catch up with him on her much shorter legs. 

When they get home, Shane deposits the bag of groceries on the counter and then turns to look at Sara, who is fussing with the whiteboard near their door. “You had a request?” he asks.

“I do,” Sara says, fiddling with one of the dry-erase markers. She looks up at Shane, standing in the kitchen, one of his hands on the countertop. “You have big hands,” Sara says. “Do you know that’s one of the first things I noticed about you?”

“Oh?” Shane picks up his hand. He holds it a little out from his body, and Sara steps into the warm light of the kitchen, and then into the circle of Shane’s arms. 

“I’ve always liked them,” she says. “Do you remember that day on the picnic table? When we had lunch?” 

“When?” Shane asks, one hand coming up to spread across the small of Sara’s back. 

“Before we were together,” Sara says, into his chest. They sway together. "I put my hand up next to yours, do you remember?" 

Shane shrugs. "If I tell you that I was trying really hard not to let on how much I was into you, will you believe me?" 

"Oh my God, stop," Sara says. "You weren't." She looks up at him. Shane's looking down at her. 

"I was!" he insists. "I was so gone for you, almost immediately." He ducks down and Sara pushes up, meeting him in the middle. The kiss is unhurried, quiet, just like the slow wave of love that rolls through Sara at Shane's words.

“I want you to choke me,” Sara says, when they break apart. 

“Timing,” Shane suggests, when he stops blinking at her, owlish behind his glasses. 

“Would you have rathered I asked in the middle of Whole Foods?” 

She’s got him there, she knows. Shane’s mouth twists briefly but he concedes her point silently.

“If you’re not into it–” Sara starts, when Shane doesn’t say anything for a long moment. 

Shane shakes his head. “That’s not it,” he says. “I’m just–” Shane sighs and steps back a little from their hug, so he doesn’t have to bend down so far to look her in the eye. “What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t,” Sara says. “I trust you.” 

Shane’s hand flexes against Sara’s back. “But I might, even if I don’t mean to.” 

“If you squeeze too hard, or I need to breathe, I’ll tap you on the arm. Three times.” Sara taps his forearm sharply, three times. “Just like that.” 

Shane still looks mildly dubious. “Go research,” Sara says, lifting herself up onto her toes so she can catch his mouth with hers briefly. “Ask me questions, ask the internet questions, do whatever you need to do. We can take as much time as you want.” 

They make dinner and watch a movie and later, when they’re lying in bed, Sara leans over to kiss Shane, and snuggle down next to him while he scrolls on his phone. She catches a glimpse of his screen before he sets it down beside his hip and draws her in with both hands. Reddit is as good a place to start as any other place, she thinks, as he pulls her over him, so she’s straddling him. 

“Like this?” Shane asks, bringing his hand up, the vee between his thumb and forefinger resting against Sara’s throat, just under her chin. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds her there. Sara shudders. Liquid heat pours through her body, pooling at the base of her spine. Her eyes flutter shut. “You really are into this, aren’t you?”

Sara nods, feeling his hand around her throat. His hand is so big, his fingers span the whole way around her neck, and he still has room to spare. Shane lets his hand drop. He tweaks her nipple on the way by and Sara jerks and gasps. 

“Oh boy,” Shane says, delighted.

After that it’s quick work to get Sara on her back and Shane between her legs, her feet coming up so she can dig her heels into the backs of his thighs while he braces himself on his forearms above her and fucks her, slowly and methodically. Sara whines on every thrust, and Shane’s hair falls into his face when he drops his chin to kiss her, sloppy and heated. 

They shiver over the edge together, Sara’s fingers moving fast between them. 

===

Shane peppers her with questions and Sara sends him articles to read and videos to watch. She thinks, possibly, this is the most use her incognito browser has gotten in actual years. 

It’s a warm evening, and they’re sitting outside on the porch, a beer dangling between Shane’s fingers while Sara’s drink sweats in a rocks glass next to her elbow on the arm of her chair. Shane tips back into the chair he’s claimed for himself, pulling his beer up with the movement, and bringing it to his mouth. He sucks back the whole thing, and Sara watches, over the top of her book, while he does. 

Shane sets down his beer bottle with a decisive thunk on the deck boards at his feet. His bare toes flex against the light wood. Sara slots her bookmark into place, and sets her book down on her lap. Shane’s looking at her. There’s intention in his gaze; it feels weighty, meaningful. Sara shivers. 

“It’s not too late,” Shane says, and Sara hums in agreement. Shane stretches out one leg, so he can run the arch of his foot up the side of her calf. 

Sara lifts her glass to her mouth. The cheap white wine cut with seltzer fizzes happily on the back of her tongue. Sara swallows. 

“C’mon,” Shane says, tipping to his feet and reaching down for her. 

“Do I get to finish my drink?” Sara asks, letting him pull her to her feet. 

“Go ahead,” he says. Sara breaks their gaze for long enough to look down to get her glass, and then she’s drawn back to the magnetic draw of his eyes, gone to whiskey in the dying light of the sunset. Sara doesn’t look away until she’s swallowed the remainder of her glass. Ice cubes clink against the sides. 

Shane leans in, gathering her close, and kisses her. Sara can taste the last of his beer on his lips, and feels the way he’s gone hard and wanting when he pulls her in close with a hand at the base of her spine. 

They break apart in a hush of breath. Sara smiles up at Shane and he smiles down at her and suddenly, it’s like they’re in the first blush of it again. He grabs her hand, and pulls her into the house behind him. Sara stumbles over their jumble of shoes at the door but Shane barely gives her a moment before he’s dragging her through the living room and then down the hallway. 

He slows as they approach the bedroom door and gets in behind her, so he can push her through and then down onto the bed. He follows her down, bracketing himself around her on hands and knees. Sara looks up at him. His eyes are bright, even in the half-dark of their bedroom. 

“Sometimes,” he says, ducking down to nose along the side of her neck while his hands slip up under her shirt. “Sometimes, I think I must’ve really lucked out.” 

Sara arches into his touch, and Shane’s hands shove her bra up and over her breasts, before he covers them with both palms. “You’re so gorgeous,” he says, into the skin just under her ear. Sara shivers and moans. Shane lifts his head, watching her face while he pinches her nipples until they’re standing, hard, in between his fingers. 

“Flatterer,” Sara says, but she’s breathless. 

Shane shifts back, to give her space to undress. Sara wastes no time, and as soon as she’s nude, clothes tossed in different directions, Shane topples her back down onto the bed. 

“You too,” Sara says, when Shane doesn’t immediately pull off his own shirt. 

Shane’s hands settle on Sara’s hips, thumbs caressing the sides of her stomach. He ducks down to press a kiss between her breasts, before sliding down further. 

“Sh– _ah_ –” Sara says, as Shane licks a stripe of wet heat through her centre. “God,” Sara says, and brings one hand up to bury it in his hair. Shane hums, and Sara’s fingers tighten. She moans. Pleasure fizzes, molten and bright, in her stomach, heat bleeding up into her chest. “Shane,” she murmurs, “please.” 

Shane lifts his head. Sara can see the glisten of her slick on his mouth. Shane licks his lips, satisfaction telegraphed across his whole face. His fingers slide through her cunt, and Sara shudders, her hips lifting off the bed to chase the pressure of Shane’s hand. 

Shane pulls off his shirt, and shucks his pants, barely taking his hands off her to do it. Every place he touches her seems to come alive, her nerves waking under her skin. Shane touches her everywhere, follows the path of his fingers with his mouth, leaving her aching, each breath dragged out of her like she’s already being starved of oxygen. 

Finally, he settles between her thighs, fits himself into the cradle of her hips, and slides home, smooth and deliberate. Sara arches to meet him, and Shane groans, closing his eyes and biting his lip. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he says, when Sara cants her hips to meet the way Shane rocks into her. It’s an easy slide, she’s so wet she can nearly taste it in the air. Shane reaches between them, slides a finger across her clit and Sara’s whole world collapses to that point. She rides out the onrush of the orgasm with her hands clenched in her own hair, pulling just enough to fill the sting. 

“Fuck,” she says, when she can open her eyes again. Shane looks down at her. He shifts his hips. “Oh,” she says, and then her eyes widen. She can feel the next one waiting in the wings, her thighs are already tensing, toes curling, and the molten heat in her gut tightens. “ _Oh_.” 

Shane leans down, hair falling into his face. “Are you ready?” 

Sara nods, and Shane’s hand comes up, settling against her throat. He doesn’t squeeze yet, just holds his hand there. Sara looks up at him, wraps her hand around his arm, and catches his gaze. His face is split open with something Sara thinks might be gratitude. 

“Do it,” she says, tipping her head back to give him more room. “Come on, Shane.” Her voice is just a touch strained, from the weight of his hand. Shane’s still fucking her, and Sara’s other hand is busy between them. She shudders, pressing up into his palm. “Shane,” she begs, “I want it.” 

Shane’s hand tightens. Sara’s brain shorts out in a white hot fizz, every thought obliterated. He has room to spare, and he snugs his hand closer, squeezes a little tighter. Everything narrows down to the sparking heat where they’re joined, Shane fucking her like he could do it all day, and the grip of his hand around her throat. Sara moans. She doesn’t recognize the sound, it sounds far away. 

Shane releases his hand long enough for Sara to drag in a ragged breath. He groans above her, and snaps his hips forward hard at the same time that he closes his hand around her throat again. Sara’s body jumps, the need to breathe pushed away for the need to reach that glittering flawless edge. The edge she can fling herself off of and be swept away. 

“Sara,” Shane’s saying. Just her name, over and over, like he’s forgotten every other word. He lets her drag in another breath, and this time, when he tightens his hand again, he swoops down to kiss her. Sara moans into his mouth, desperate, her whole body straining against his. She’s close, she’s close, she’s so close now. 

“Nuh–” she says into his mouth, unable to get the breath to get the words out. She’s going to sound so used after this. She already loves it.

“Yeah,” he says, “yeah, come on, baby, let me see you.” He reaches between them, pushes her hand out of the way and Sara’s at the edge and flinging herself off. Shane lets go of her throat as soon as she starts to orgasm, and the flood of oxygen after the deprivation seems like a glutton’s feast. There’s a high, rising whine and a flood of wet between them. Sara’s body feels untethered from her. It takes her longer than it should for her to realise that the sound is coming from her. 

Shane’s coming too, his shoulders shaking as he holds himself up, elbows locked and body drawn tight as a bow. 

Sara has the impression of the curve of his mouth and the dark bourbon of his eyes and then she closes her eyes, riding out an aftershock that makes her bite her bottom lip hard enough that it hurts. 

When she surfaces again, she’s been bundled into their comforter and Shane’s curled around her, tracing patterns into her belly. She blinks open her eyes, and turns her head to find him. 

“Hi you,” she says, and oh, her voice is wrecked. 

Shane’s smile is soft. “Hi back,” he says, reaching up to draw the pads of his fingers down the curve of her jaw. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Sara sighs. She swallows and winces. Shane’s mouth turns down at the corners. “No,” Sara says, “it’s okay. It’ll be tender for a couple of days, but I’m fine.” 

“There’s a mark,” Shane says, dropping his hand to gently press against the spot where Sara assumes the mark is. 

“That’s okay,” Sara says. She rolls so she’s facing him, snuggled up into his chest. He’s pulled on sleep pants. “I could sleep for a week,” Sara says. From above her head, Shane snorts. He pulls her in. 

“You’re really alright?” 

“Yes,” Sara answers, tipping her head back so she can look at him. “I’m really fine. Just need you to hold me for a bit while I come down.” 

“Okay,” Shane says. “I can do that.”

Sara tucks her chin back down and closes her eyes. She can feel his heart beating. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please come and chat with me about my fic on [tumblr](http://sequencefairy.tumblr.com) or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/warpspeed_chic).


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